


A Moment Apart

by callaina



Series: So Golden Verse [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Hatake Kakashi Has Issues, Hitman Hatake Kakashi, M/M, Mafia AU, Mobster Umino Iruka, Mostly off-screen torture, author is sad about that, discussion of past emotional abuse and trauma, iruka's wrath knows no bounds, no dior dress is worn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:22:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27105646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callaina/pseuds/callaina
Summary: Kakashi’s past catches up to him in the form of Danzou looking for retribution. No one reacts well.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Series: So Golden Verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1978456
Comments: 7
Kudos: 92





	A Moment Apart

**Author's Note:**

> set one year after the events of [So Golden](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26111662)

The gravel of the rooftop digs into his knees. He barely senses it through the padded fabric of his combat pants as he sits in front of the rifle. The cityscape is polluted by the blinking fluorescent lights of billboards and skyscrapers; the glimmering dots at the edge of his vision dare him to look away from his target. It’s not nearly enough of a distraction for a sniper like him, though, and thanks to his fucked-up eye Kakashi doesn’t need the scope, not even when the night sky has consumed the daylight hours ago, sun plunged into darkness.

He has been perching out in the cold for the better part of an hour but he doesn’t mind it – it’s during a job that his past is most likely to break through the surface and catch up to him. Kakashi remembers his training and education with an almost-fondness if it weren’t for the manipulation and abuse his body and mind had been put through. Still, it comes naturally to him to block out the chill creeping into the hollow of his bones.

The man he’s been surveilling stands behind the window panes of the penthouse apartment, and readjusts his glasses. They are round and circular and catch the overhead lights, reflecting them back. Kakashi would roll his eyes at the cup in his hand if the contents of it looked less like blood and more like what he suspects is red wine. You can never be sure in this city.

Over his comms, through the bugging device Tenzou has planted on the large windows, he hears the elevator in the apartment move upwards. Kakashi’s finger moves to the trigger because he wants to get this over with, wants to go home, home to where Iruka is. The job description told him this would be a quick kill for decent money, not that he needs it these days, but one of the affiliates had requested Kakashi specifically.

He taps his comm.

“Tenzou, there’s someone coming up the elevator. The target was supposed to be alone. Permission to place the hit now.”

On the other end of the line, Tenzou hesitates. “I’m trying to get a clearer picture on it, wait.”

Kakashi clicks his tongue and readjusts his grip on the rifle. The man in the apartment turns towards the elevator and although he takes a casual sip of his beverage, Kakashi can read in the lines of his body that whoever is coming, the man is terrified of them.

“Tenzou,” he warns. “Who is it?”

His finger on the trigger doesn’t move. Doesn’t twitch. All the noise in Kakashi’s head is stretched thin into static – similar to the imminent sound of traffic and nightlife. The wind grows stronger and he pops up the collar of his jacket. The elevator keeps on announcing which level it is on until, finally, it arrives at the top floor.

“Last chance,” Kakashi singsongs and waits for clearance to shoot his shot.

It doesn’t come. Instead, the elevator doors slide open and a figure steps out.

He spots the cane first. The half of his face that is wrapped in gauze follows and then, the bandaged arm, cradled to his side like the corpse of something precious – useless but still attached. Danzou wears his traditional black robe like it has been tailored to every single edge and swell of his body. Kakashi’s finger slides off the trigger as if he were a ghost, unable to touch anything solid.

“Kakashi, we have new intel. You need to get out of there, now. Pickup in two.”

He doesn’t move. The city rarely gets snow and when it does, the flakes melt right into a grey sludge, the fumes and gas of waste and exhaust too dense, the streets trapping too much heat for a more natural climate to exist. But Kakashi is frozen to the spot as if a thick sheet of ice has spread on the ground below him. The imaginary sheen of it blinds him. Kakashi blinks.

Danzou moves past the target and into the apartment, stops under the expensive designer lamp where the light bulb seems to spot him. He acts like a black hole to it. The rest of the room falls into shadows as Danzou turns and looks directly at him.

It’s what Kakashi needed to jump into motion. He dismantles the rifle at a speed that would make his father proud and Danzou even prouder, and the nausea that rushes over him at that thought nearly sweeps Kakashi off his feet. He cannot afford to slow down as he hauls his bag over his shoulder and makes his way over to the rooftop door – when he swings it open, steps are echoing up and through the stairway.

Tenzou is saying something but it doesn’t reach him. His vision starts to swim as masked faces edge into it and the next thing he knows is that his head hits the ground. The bout is over before it began, really. His arms are brought behind his back, cuffs close around his wrists with a snap, and something wet trickles into his good eye from where he caught the edge of a flagstone. All Kakashi thinks is, embarrassing. Embarrassing that after all he wasn’t able to put up a good fight.

He hopes that Iruka can forgive him.

~*~*~

A gasp for air wrenches itself out of his lungs as he is doused in ice-cold water.

Kakashi starts to shiver almost instantly. His hair hangs over his eyes and he cannot wipe the dripping strands away, he realizes. His wrists are still bound but he sits on a chair now.

Danzou’s deep sigh snaps his attention to the front.

“You’re in bad shape, Hound.”

“You can’t kill me,” Kakashi bites out. His teeth chatter against his will and he clenches his jaw to make them stop. He made sure that Danzou cannot kill him. He made _sure_. All of it, leaving Root, signing under Sarutobi, finding Iruka – Kakashi needs it to have been worth something.

Danzou doesn’t react much. He hums instead. “I want to. But you are right, I can’t.”

Kakashi tilts his chin up and bares his teeth at his former keeper. “Then why am I here?”

“You couldn’t have expected me to let you go without a punishment, did you? You were my best, Hound, and I was the one who shaped you into who you are now.” Danzou’s cane drags against the concrete flooring of the room Kakashi recognizes as the basement of Danzou’s estate. He steps towards Kakashi and his visible eye drills a hole into Kakashi’s scar, the silence between them stretching. Kakashi already expects it when the blow of the cane strikes the side of his head so he utters no sound, no shuddering exhale, nothing. But his ears ring and don’t quite stop for the rest of it.

“I gave you a shelter. I gave you a home. After your father’s passing, you had to miss neither food nor comradeship. I took you in as my own, raised you from your worthless remains.” He brings the handle of his cane in front of his face, follows the line of it with a wrinkled finger. Traces the golden metal. Surveys it for cracks and blemishes but Kakashi knows Danzou is letting the tension build up to his next words.

“You don’t bite the hand that fed you, Hound.”

~*~*~

He drags himself up to the doorbell and leans against it. His fingers miss the button and leave a trail of blood all over the display, and when he tries again he just smears more red over the name edged into the plate. Most of this blood isn’t his.

He doesn’t quite remember how he has made it here. To be honest, he doesn’t remember where his body begins and where it ends. A hand is holding his stomach and he idly wonders why it’s there, why he presses it against the skin, but when he lessens the pressure, a heat so white rushes through him and temporarily blinds his vision. He breathes through it but even the way his lungs expand against the vessel of his ribcage seems foreign.

Why is he here? Right. The doorbell. Ring the doorbell. He adjusts his stance and leans against the bell, provoking a steady sound out of it. Lights flicker to life somewhere in the house. Footsteps make their way through the hallway, angry and heavy, and somewhere inside of him amusement flickers before it fades back into the dissociative lull that numbs his thoughts.

Tsunade is yelling before she sees him, and when she does, shock stuns her into silence. Then, she yells again, face contorted by panic, for someone else to help her and together they pull what is left of Kakashi into the warmth of the villa. He takes in the candle lights on the chandelier above his head, and lets the world fade to dark against the twinkling of gold and cut crystal.

~*~*~

“I am calling Iruka,” she says and Kakashi shakes his head. The blows against his head were enough to give him a concussion and he soon finds out that gesturing instead of using his words was a mistake. He swallows bile.

“Don’t,” he manages with a croak.

Tsunade doesn’t even look at him. “You come to my door, almost bleeding to death, after going missing for over twenty-four hours and you _think_ I don’t feel morally obligated to tell Iruka you are still alive? Iruka, who is this close to tearing this city apart looking for you?”

Kakashi feels like he is being swallowed by guilt and pain at the same time. In reality, it is a fever that consumes his system after one of his wounds became inflamed within the matter of hours. He must make a noise because Tsunade drags a cloth across his forehead, wiping up sweat. Kakashi imagines that every time she puts her hand on him, a piece of his skin comes clean of Root.

~*~*~

Kakashi opens his eyes and Iruka is there. He takes the spot by the side of his bed and continues to keep watch over him through his delirium.

His mouth opens on its own accord and whatever he says, it must not be the right thing because Iruka’s fists tremble against the sheets and he shuts his eyes like he does whenever he’s mentally counting to ten. Just that he doesn’t open them again for a long while.

Kakashi feels like he’s been torn apart and put back together but all the pieces of him now sit in the wrong places. He can see hands on his shoulders in his nightmares and they want him to drown so desperately until he sinks and sinks, down to the bottom of the river.

Fingers run through his hair and it’s Iruka again. Soothing. Kakashi loves him so. He wishes he could stop bad things from happening to him.

Iruka presses his lips against his temples and the next time Kakashi wakes up, his fever is broken and he is alone.

~*~*~

Tsunade dresses his cuts a final time with instructions to care for them before she sends him off.

He drives to the only place he knows as home. When Kakashi arrives at their apartment, Iruka isn’t there so he takes a shower as best as he can with his camouflage of waterproof bandages and drags himself to bed. Their bed.

He buries his head in Iruka’s pillow and slips into a dreamless sleep.

Kakashi is still sleeping when Iruka comes home and watches him from the bedroom door with red eyes and aching shoulders, and he is still asleep when Iruka leaves again early in the morning. A glass of water and painkillers rest on the bedside table, and the fridge is stocked with food when he opens it. He falls asleep on the couch in the living room after his lunch.

~*~*~

“Up. Get up, _now_ ,” Iruka orders and Kakashi obeys. His legs protest under the strain – his muscles burn from disuse. He lost his sense of time.

Iruka stalks towards him like he is wild prey, and like Iruka wants to hurt him. But Kakashi knows that he would never, that no matter what happens between them Iruka would never hurt him intentionally. He had to learn this the hard way when he almost fucked up their relationship right before it even began.

“Kakashi, tell me, did I give you any reason not to trust me? Have I done anything that showed you that you could not trust me?”

Kakashi swallows. His head is stuffed with cotton and there is steel wire stuck in his throat, or at least it feels like it. He hadn’t used his voice for anything but giving an echo to his most primal fears for a while. He looks at Iruka, at his furious eyes, and he shakes his head sharply.

“Then _why?_ Why, Kakashi?” Iruka stands before him now and it’s heartbreaking how even the most obvious spectator would take notice of his radiating anger, but only Kakashi registers the hurt behind it. “Why wouldn’t you want me to know? Why wouldn’t you come to _me_?” Only Kakashi hears the begging for what it is. He doesn’t know what to say to show Iruka that this was not about him, that Iruka was the first thing he had wanted to touch without the intention of fucking it up.

Iruka’s otherwise full lips are now a tight, white line. He trembles under the hold his emotions have on him, hands pressed to fists at his sides. “Did you want to protect me? You know that out of the two of us I’m not the one that needs safekeeping.”

“No,” Kakashi rasps and it’s the first word conscious word he speaks since he turned up at the doorstep after he found his way back from Root. He’s not religious but for this he gives thanks: for always finding his way back to a door that hasn’t been closed on him. Yet.

Iruka closes his eyes and drags a hand over his face. He is dressed in black from head to toe – black combat pants, black crop top. Even his brown eyes seemed to have gone dark.

He needs to tell him, he knows. Kakashi sees it in the wrinkle between his eyebrows, in the tension around his neck, in Iruka’s arms that come around his own torso, not quite crossing them, but almost. Closing off.

“I was ashamed,” Kakashi whispers and Iruka’s eyes snap back up at him.

Confusion flickers over Iruka’s face. He wants to hold it in his face, to put his palms on his cheeks. Sometimes he doesn’t remember what his purpose was before meeting Iruka, before his whole being started reaching out for him.

“Of what?” Iruka asks and searches his face for a genuine answer.

“That I believed him,” he answers and shame rushes back in with a vengeance. He cannot look at Iruka. “I believed that he was right. That he has always been right. About me.” Feverish nausea trades places with the steel wire. Breathe, he tries to tell himself. Breathe, he’s here, he found his way back, he’s here with Iruka. But Kakashi had found out early on that his inner voice wasn’t nearly as good at reassuring as it was with guiding him towards his own downfall. He opens his mouth again when the nausea turns into a panic. He needs Iruka to understand.

“He used to tell me I was only good for this one thing, for drenching my hands in blood. That I was perfect. Made for it. The rest of me was worthless, a vessel. I swore to myself I was done with Root, all of it but – “

Iruka’s hands find their way into his hair. He runs his fingernails over his scalp and Kakashi’s eyes sting at the relief of being touched by the one he loves. “But seeing him and hearing him took you back,” Iruka supplies. “As if you were back at Root, and never found an escape from your bird’s cage.”

Kakashi can’t do anything but nod. “I was ashamed because you gave me an out a year ago. And you took me in. And as a thanks I give you what – that I’m still not able to tell black from white?” Just when his own frustration turns into heavy, red anger that he swears he can see against his closed eyelids, Iruka pulls at his hair, sharply. Kakashi lets out a gasp.

“Open your eyes.”

Iruka could tell him whatever he wanted and Kakashi would listen.

Iruka’s expression has sobered to a look of gravity. It matches the dedication of his hands in Kakashi’s hair.

“Kneel.”

Kakashi drops to his knees when the hold on his hair disappears but as soon as he’s on the ground it returns, and with a yank Iruka exposes the bare line of his throat.

“I need you to listen to me very closely now,” Iruka says and his words shine like the edge of a blade against all the noise in his head. “I am angry with you, Kakashi. I’m angry that I had to find out through my consigliere that my partner, the man I love, came to her instead of me when we had an agreement about this. But I will never be angry at you for your past catching up to you, for the fact that you have been traumatized. Do you understand?”

Kakashi’s face burns and it seeps down his neck.

“Yes,” he breathes and blinks up at Iruka.

“Good,” Iruka says and then the hard lines around his eyes melt, his lips part to let out a shuddery breath, his grip trembles: Iruka’s resolve crumples. He falls to the floor in an undignified heap as his arms come around Kakashi, and he holds him so tight that he squeezes the air out of Kakashi’s chest.

“I thought you were gone, Kakashi,” Iruka mouths against the skin of his neck. Kakashi feels his tears before he hears them in Iruka’s voice. “I thought I’d lost you, and I would have burned down this city but it wouldn’t have brought you back,” he cries and Kakashi noses his cheek, kisses his temple, rests his palms against the small of his back where Iruka’s skin is laid bare. Anything to make this better. The shame still harbors in him like a fish hook caught between his ribs, but it doesn’t swallow him up anymore. He feels guilt in making Iruka cry, though.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry,” Kakashi murmurs against his hairline. He touches the scar that begins at the middle of Iruka’s back and ends between his shoulders, massages the tense muscles under it.

Iruka comes back up and takes Kakashi’s face between his hands. “ _I_ am sorry for what they did to you.” And he kisses Kakashi like he has been starved out. It’s messy and wet, with the tears still rolling down Iruka’s face, but Kakashi wouldn’t have it any other way, not when he opens against Iruka and it feels like coming home. The mood shifts when Kakashi breaks for air, and Iruka dives right back in, their teeth clacking against each other with how Iruka throws himself into the kiss.

Iruka almost tears a hole into his shirt when he pulls the fabric aside to sink his teeth into the sensitive skin at the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

Oh, _God._

Iruka’s name spills off the tip of his tongue, draped around a deep rumble coming straight from his chest. In response, Iruka pulls off his top and lets it drop carelessly, slides into his lap, and sucks Kakashi’s earlobe into his mouth, before biting down on it. “You’re mine,” Iruka breathes into his ear as he drags his fingernails down Kakashi’s back, digging them into his sides as if he anchored himself down right to this spot, a heap of limbs and sweat and heat, together with Kakashi.

This time it’s him who pulls at Iruka’s hair, at the hair tie that holds his low ponytail together. Iruka comes off his neck into which he was sucking a deep bruise only seconds ago but if Iruka has a thing for Kakashi’s hair, he has even more of a thing for having his deep brown locks played _with_. He goes pliant like a puppy under Kakashi’s grip and Kakashi feels like he has felt the first time he laid eyes on Iruka at the bar. A memory that now seems like an eternity ago now.

“And I’m yours,” Iruka pants, breathless. When their eyes meet, Kakashi takes in Iruka’s dilated pupils, how his bottom lip is slightly swollen from biting it, the red on his cheeks. He swears he smolders at the sight, but the words have him done for. “I want you,” Iruka says, and Kakashi pulls him in roughly by his belt. His hands knead into Iruka’s ass and Iruka throws his arms around Kakashi’s neck when Kakashi stands and lifts him up, wraps his legs around Kakashi’s hips as he carries them to the bedroom. But that plan melts into thin air when their middles meet and Iruka deliberately grinds down on Kakashi’s erection.

Iruka’s head meets the wall with a thud and Kakashi rolls his hips against Iruka’s, swallows his moan into his own mouth. “You’re wearing too much,” Iruka says and sounds so offended, and if his head was clearer, he’d laugh. Iruka’s hand finds its way to Kakashi’s waistline and tugs at his shirt, pulling it up but Kakashi snatches his wrist up, pins it above his head together with his other hand. He runs his tongue from Iruka’s exposed collarbones up the line of his neck, muscles tensing under him, up to the sweet spot between Iruka’s ear that he knows drives Iruka wild. “Kakashi, I s – swear,” Iruka curses, hissing out, his throat releasing a stutter. It’s the perfect hint for Kakashi to press open-mouthed kisses, pure adulterated filth, against his throat as Iruka’s legs cling to him for dear life. “The noises you make, baby. You sound like sin. I could come just from listening to you.”

Iruka bucks up, struggles against Kakashi’s hold on his wrists. “Kakashi, if you don’t stop and take me to bed now and give it to me _hard_ , I’ll be the one coming in my pants and I’ll kick you out right after.”

Kakashi lets his forehead thump against the wall as he releases Iruka’s arms and laughs.

Iruka doesn’t understand. “What? What’s so funny? You don’t believe me?”

“No,” Kakashi presses out in-between. “I just remembered how you once told me not to make you come on your dress because it’s Dior.” He takes a deep breath and meets Iruka’s exasperated stare. “We had to go to that gala afterwards and all I wanted to do was lock the door and bend you over the settee.”

Iruka raises one eyebrow. “You think I would have let you? A dress is a dress, but come stains are hard to get out of a couch.”

Kakashi doesn’t say anything but palms Iruka through his pants, follows the hard line of his cock, closes in till their lips are almost touching but not quite. He hums. “Oh, I’m pretty sure you would have. Or should I leave now?” He opens the button and zipper of Iruka’s pants, circles the wet patch where Iruka is leaking against his briefs.

Iruka gives a frustrated cry. “Sto – stop teasing, Kakashi!”

Kakashi presses a chaste kiss to Iruka’s mouth in an apology, and a moment later Iruka’s back hits the mattress. Kakashi pulls off his shirt and watches Iruka drink in the scene before him with hunger as he steps out of his pants, too.

Before Kakashi can ask how he wants him, Iruka turns around, settles on all fours. Kakashi almost trips over his own feet, that’s how fast he’s on the mattress. He drapes himself over Iruka, one hand moving down to free his cock, the other pressing Iruka’s neck down till his cheek rests on the pillows. Iruka spasms forward when Kakashi strokes his whole length and releases a deep moan that has Kakashi close his eyes and lap at his spine with his tongue. When Iruka presses his still-clothed ass back against Kakashi’s cock, though, he curses. Curses more when Iruka says that he wants to feel Kakashi in him. Wants him now.

Kakashi sits back on his haunches and pulls down Iruka’s briefs to his knees, caressing his exposed cheeks. Iruka hands him the lube from under the pillows but Kakashi has other plans: instead of flipping the cap open, he spreads Iruka’s cheeks and noses at his taint. Slowly, he drags his tongue up as he kneads Iruka’s ass, blows a hot breath against Iruka’s rim, before sinking down with lavish strokes. It’s dirty, and lewd, and so, so good; Iruka keens as he presses his face into the linen.

If he could, Kakashi would eat him out for hours – once he had pushed Iruka to the edge just with this and left Iruka so sensitive and overstimulated that Kakashi wasn’t allowed near his ass for two whole days.

Iruka pushes back and Kakashi breaches his rim.

“Fuck, Kakashi. Please, please fuck me. You feel so good inside of me.” The words tumble out of him without any hesitation or shame.

Kakashi runs his palms over Iruka’s back in a soothing gesture before pouring lube over his fingers. “One moment, baby, I don’t want to hurt you,” he assures, and he has three fingers inside of Iruka so quickly that he’s stunned – but Iruka’s body indulges him in its lax state.

His own briefs come off, and he leaves the condom untouched when Iruka vehemently shakes his head. He lines his cock up at Iruka’s entrance and the heat alone has him frantically grasp onto his thin layer of control. When Kakashi starts sliding in though, pushes past the ring of muscle and deeper into Iruka, that’s when the heat washes over him and his chest becomes flush with Iruka’s back. Iruka’s pants are heavy as he turns his head to look over his shoulder and Kakashi is on him in an instant; their mouths meet in such a frenzy that you couldn’t even call it kissing. “Iruka,” he gasps. “Iruka, perfect, you are perfect.”

Kakashi’s hands are on his chest, Iruka’s heartbeat hummingbird-fast, merging with Kakashi’s own. He rocks into him three, four times before he complies and gives Iruka what he asked for. The sound of skin against skin echoes in the room as he sets a fast pace, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in. The headboard slams against the wall but Iruka doesn’t have any neighbors and even then, Kakashi knows Iruka wouldn’t give a shit about who could hear him. It hasn’t always been like that. He remembers when Iruka wasn’t as confident about his noise.

He looks down on where their bodies meet and the sight of it is inebriating – he has to concentrate not to falter in his rhythm but then Iruka reaches an arm back and claws at Kakashi’s hand on his chest. Kakashi stops right away and is about to slip out but then Iruka pants between heavy breaths: “I want to – turn around – wanna see you.”

So he does slide out for Iruka to rearrange his position, until he’s on his back, knees bent, pulled up towards his chest – exposed and ready. For a second all Kakashi can do is stare at the half-lidded, thoroughly fucked-out look on Iruka’s face before he lowers slowly, agonizingly so as he reads Iruka’s impatience off his face, and thrusts back into Iruka at the same time as he catches his mouth in a kiss.

The angle has changed. With it, Iruka arches off the mattress as he throws his head back. “I’m gonna – “ he rasps and pushes back onto Kakashi’s cock, and that's enough of a hint for Kakashi. He picks up the pace. “You’re gonna come for me? You’re gonna come without a single touch to your cock? That’s how good it feels?” And then Iruka clenches around him and comes, painting his stomach in white lines. Kakashi’s thrusts become shallower as Iruka rides his high, still leaking.

His own orgasm isn’t far but what drives him over the edge is the look in Iruka’s eyes when he opens them back up. Kakashi hears him say _You’re mine_ again, and he falls.

He falls, and falls, and falls into open arms.

After, their apartment is bedded into quietness. Iruka’s back rests against Kakashi’s chest, and their breaths come at an even pace. His heart gives a twang and he swallows thickly. When he speaks, his lips move against Iruka’s skin like light on water.

“I am sorry. I didn’t want you to see me like that, that’s why I went to Tsunade,” Kakashi says. For a moment he thinks Iruka is already asleep and he almost wishes for it - but Iruka shifts, turns around so they are facing. He traces the line of Kakashi’s cheekbones with his fingertips as soft as a feather.

“I didn’t want to take my anger out on you,” Iruka says and he looks so sad that Kakashi puts his own hand over the one resting on his cheek, nuzzles into the touch. Iruka continues. “I have told you before that I notice when you’re trying to keep me at an arm’s length, and this felt much the same, just that I didn’t know whether you’d come back alive. It hurts, Kakashi, but the one you’re hurting the most is yourself.”

Neither half-lie, nor sugarcoated truth.

I love you, Kakashi thinks. Thank you, he thinks. He says so.

Iruka smiles, small and private. He sighs then, and lets his eyes fall shut.

“Danzou will burn."

**Author's Note:**

> after writing So Golden i was asked whether i could imagine writing something else in the verse and i said no, that is very unlikely. apparently i lied


End file.
